First love is a pain
by Jack104
Summary: 17 year old Kick disappeared without a trace for 8 months. Leaving behind a heart broken Kendall, now that he's back their both forced together on a summer trip,could buried feelings resurface? Major kickxkendall you've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Alrighty. This is only my second fanfic and I'm new to writing Kick Buttowski stories sooo, go easy on me will ya? So why am I righting this story? Cuz I can, and I felt like it. Since I'm a huge KickxKendall fan this story is a (you guessed it) MAJOR Kindall fanfic. No fluffiness in this story kiddies. Don't like? Don't read simple as that. Originally this was going to be a one-shot –two-shot. But then I decided, why not make this a full blown story?**

**WARNING: ****for language, and sexual content is implied. Its rated T for a reason.**

**DISCLAIMOR: blah blah blah. Kick Buttowski doesn't belong to me and never will. Blah blah blah. Sandro is so lucky. Blah blah I own zip. Blah.**

**Now with all that crap out of the way…get on with it already!**

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><p>Kendall's POV<p>

_How did I get myself into this? _

After returning home from studying abroad. I figured I needed a break from the books so I decided to attend this party down the street, and to get my mind off things. But what I didn't expect beyond my wildest dreams was to find Kick there.

I watch my drink fall from my hands in slow motion, the liquid in my mouth tastes like dust. _What is Kick doing here? _Where has he been the past eight months? He left town without a trace after our brief and crazy relationship. I didn't find out until a _lot_ later that he left because he got a phone call about his possible big break. But why didn't he try to reach me, or at least give me a sign that he's alive? He stands in a dark corner, his back against the wall with his head hunged down. He looked a bit depressed. I notice that he appears to have gotten taller, last I saw him he was almost the same height as me. I notice he wasn't wearing his signature jumpsuit instead he was shirtless wearing only dark denim jeans and surprisingly he was without his helmet.

He still has those same lean muscles, his sleek spiky black hair covering his eyes and basically half his face. Up until high school Kick would always wear his jumpsuit and only his jumpsuit, and of course his helmet that he never seemed to take off. But at the start of freshmen year he would sometimes (on rare occasions) wear casual yet surprisingly stylish cloths. He would even come to class **without **his helmet, whether he's in his jumpsuit or not, revealing that he had spiky black hair similar to his brother brads-only better. He was almost unrecognizable.

However, that didn't mean he did stunts any less. THAT hasn't changed at all. But it was somewhat nice to see him in something else other than his jumpsuit. Don't get me wrong I've always thought kick looked devishly handsome in his jumpsuit, I actually preferred him in it because it reminds me of his younger-self. And—_wait. _Why am I thinking about this now? Realizing that I was gawking at him I quickly turn and straighten up. What is_ wrong_ with me? He abandon me! I should be hating his guts not drooling over him like those psychotic obsessed fangirls! Out of nowhere a flash of wacky Jacky pops in my mind. I shuddered. I turn back to kick, He's real, and live, and…walking right toward me!

He's got those same blue eyes that are gazing directly at me. I can't look away, even though I desperately want to. He lets out a slow breath and says, "This is kinda awkward, huh." his deep voice sounds familiar but different. It's got an edge to it that wasn't there the last time we saw each other.

"Yeah," I manage to squeak out. Umm…

"How've you been?"

I can't answer that question. It's too fake. If he cared how I've been, he would have figured out a way to see me or talk to me. He left me before Christmas, before New Year's, before Valentine's Day, before my birthday. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. But before he could answer a girl pops out of nowhere and basically throws herself at him. Clutching his arm and batting her eye lashes. "There you are." She says cheerfully. Then looks over to me. "Who are you? "She asks rather rudely.

Looking at them together is a slap in the face. The girl is really pretty. She's got big brown eyes, and perfectly brunette hair. I don't mean to gloat or come off as egotistical but it was painfully obvious that I surpassed her in beauty. But her waist is so small it's a wonder how all her internal organs can fit inside her body. Maybe they're all stuffed into her huge boobs.

I cross my arms. "His _girlfriend_." I answer with a stern, straight face.

The girl looks from me to Kick, then back to me. "You're kidding, right?" the girl asks as she clutches Kicks arm tighter, like he's her property. I resisted the urge to gag; now I finally understand how Kick felt when I used to date Ronaldo. Obviously she doesn't believe that a girl who looks like me could be dating a boy who looks like Kick.

My insides clench in disgust. Kick isn't my boyfriend and technically never was, but it still hurts to see him standing here with this girl. During all this I failed to notice that Kick paid the girl no attention, not taking his gaze off me, in fact it appears he hasn't even noticed the girls presence, treating her as if she was just mere oxygen.

I don't wait for him to tell the girl that the last person on earth he'd call his girlfriend would be me. Whether it hurts or not, I had to be strong. "No, I'm _not_ kidding," I tell her, finding my voice again. "Come along now Kick."

He looks confused.

"I think I saw your shirt in one the rooms. "The girl says with a big grin. She probably expects him to blow me off, and she's probably right.

To my surprise, Kick slings an arm over my shoulder. He smells like alcohol. "I gotta go with her." I can detect a slight slur in his speech, confirming that he has not been completely sober.

"Whatever." The girl says, rolling her eyes. She turns to me. "You can have him." Then she storms off. As she was out of sight it was just Kick and I standing in the corner. I shrug off his arm. I noticed his zipper was undone.

"Are you coming?" I ask impatiently.

I'm kind of surprised that he follows me all the way back to my house. I pondered if I should've taken him home instead, but I don't quite think his parents would be pleased to see their teenage son drunk. I sigh as I unlock the door.

_And here we are._

"I need help," Kick slurs as he drapes his arm across my shoulders again. I can feel the heat of his bare skin through my clothes. In the past I would have done anything for Kick to put his arm around me. But not now.

"You have beer breath," I tell him, pushing him off me. "And if you want help zipping up your fly, you've asked the wrong girl."

He stumbles into the living room behind me and collapses on the couch. He looks around, confused. "Wait, where's your parents?"

"At a movie."

"Why aren't you with 'em?"

"I needed time to myself." he pats the cushion next to him. "Take a load off and sit next to me." Kicks hair is sticking up in all different directions and that damn zipper is still open, making me assume that he may have fooled around with some of the girls at that party specifically one in particular. Problem is, he still looks good. My top lip curls, thinking about him and that girl. "No."

"Come on, just for a second."

His eyes are at half-mast and he's attempting to act all vulnerable and innocent, but I know better. "You should probably get home now, before someone else catches you drunk or on drugs or whatever you ingested tonight," I tell him.

"Sit with me for a minute, then I'll disappear to my house and you won't have to see me for the rest of the night. I promise." he fumbles with his fly and finally zips and buttons his pants, then leans his head against the back of the couch. "And just so you know, I didn't do drugs. Could've, but didn't. Don't want to screw anything up anything now that I finally got my big break." he mumbles.

I stand right in front of him, determined to be the rational one. "You were drinking tonight. Don't deny it." his lips curve into a small smile. "Yeah, I drank. Feels good to not have to think about…everything."

I hesitate. Being close to kick isn't a good idea. "I should report this to your parents."

"Yeah, you should."

I sighed. "But I won't."

"Why not, kends? Could it be that deep down in that frozen heart of yours you still like me?" he reaches out and pulls me toward him. Not being very steady in the first place, I stumble forward, but he cradles my body with his arm and gently lowers me to the couch until I'm lying down. Under him.

"Don't answer that question," he says.

My brain tells me to scramble away and keep my distance, but my body isn't listening to my brain. My body has a mind of its own. I look up into Kicks intense, sea blue eyes. Those depths are totally focused on my lips. I swear the air grows thicker around us, closing in like a dark cloud. All I hear is the sound of our breathing. I forget everything else and let myself enjoy being this close to him again.

He brushes my now long side bangs away from my face with unexpected gentleness, the pads of his fingers a soft caress brushing across my cheek. I bunch my hands at my sides, afraid that if I actually move I'll slip back into reality.

Kick shifts and moves closer. "Kendall, do you want this as much as I do?" he asks, his face poised right above mine. "I…I can't answer that."

He leans back just the slightest bit, but he's still close enough I can smell the alcohol he drank tonight. "Why not?"

I move my hand to his bare chest to stop him before I lose all common sense. Having him this close makes me breath harder and my pulse race, which just makes me even angrier with myself than with him. "Do you really have to ask? You were obviously with other girls tonight, kick. I'm not degrading myself by being sloppy seconds."

He jerks his head back, confusion written on it. "uuuh, I may have done some things at that party. But _that_ wasn't one of them. "When I give him an I-don't-believe-you look, his expression turns gravely serious. "I'm not gonna say some of them didn't try to come on to me, but I couldn't go through with it 'cause I was…'" he squeezes his eyes shut. After a second he opens his eyes and stares right into mine with that serious look again. "Forget it."

"Just go home, Kick, "I tell him, trying to push him off me. "It's obvious you're drunk and aren't thinking straight."

"Kiss me, then I'll go."

"You're crazy," I choke.

"Yeah, I know." his lips are twisted into a half smile. "But humor me just this once. "His head slowly dips toward mine. I watch and hold my breath as his beautiful, lips get closer and closer. "Kendall," he murmurs softly when I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. "I need this."

I must not be thinking clearly, because I say against his lips, "me too."

His hands are braced on either side of my head as he brushes his lips over mine. We kiss tentatively; as if were both not sure it's okay. My heart is slowly melting. My entire body tingles with excitement and anticipation as one of his hands grabs my waist and pulls me closer.

I close my eyes, it felt so good; it couldn't have been wrong. Back then he held me and made me believe that as long as were together, everything else would fall into place. I sigh into Kicks open mouth; it comes out as a little whimper. He leans away from me. I open my eyes and find him smiling—a one-hundred-percent-satisfied male smile. As if my response is his cue to take this further, Kick gives a guttural growl right before he lowers his head again. His mouth is on mine, open, his tongue searching. I think my brain is trying to send off warning signals, but my body and my tongue are enjoying the attention too much to listen. The sounds of our tongues and lips and moans spur me on, and I find myself raking my hands through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Touch me," Kick urges as he reaches out and traces my lower lip with the soft tip of his thumb.

I convince myself to think of the time we spent before he left. As long as I keep my eyes closed, were there—were in the past and not the present. He's going to tell me how much he cares about me any minute now. He's going to tell me that I'm the only girl he wants and needs.

He traces a wet path down my neck and dips his finger into the V of my V-neck. His mouth follows with little kisses before he moves up and kisses me again. I start to sweat with passion. I'm on fire.

It's all slow and erotic, our tongues reaching out and gliding and searching as if were both savoring the taste of each other. The bitter taste of alcohol has been replaced by this sweet scent that reminds me solely of Kick. I'm lost in the present, but my mind and body are stuck in the past. It feels good and oh, so right to be finally kissing him like this. And touching him.

He said he needed this.

I wasn't lying when I admitted I needed it, too. When he reaches under my top and rubs his thumb across the top of my bra, the rest of his hand cradling my breast, I feel like the world has stopped and it's just the two of us left. I feel a warm sensation running from my chest to the tips of my toes and back again. My insides are slowly melting into little puddles.

Until my cell phone rings. It's in my bag, ringing loudly and interrupting my fantasy.

"Don't answer it." Kick rasps. "Ignore it."

He kisses me again, but the passion is gone. The moment lost.

My cell phone keeps ringing. I turn my head, breaking the kiss, and blink a sudden tear of frustration away as I send my arm flailing for my bag.

"I can't." my hand finds the side pocket and I grab my cell. The number glowing on the Caller ID makes me suck in a breath. "It's my dad, "I say slowly as I nudge Kicks hand away from under my shirt. I let the phone ring and ring until the call gets transferred to voicemail.

I look up at Kick, still poised above me. The boy who left and didn't look back. I'm still under the impression that he fooled around with other girls tonight, and then moved on to me like it didn't matter. Different face, different body, same interchangeable good time.

I'm pathetic and the only one I can blame is me. I could have said no. I could have acted like I didn't want this. I could have walked away and not look back just like how he did.

But I didn't.

Instead, I stepped closer to him…almost testing him to see if he'd make a move. Sure enough, he took the bait. I'm no better than any of those girls he was with tonight.

"Kick what are we doing?" I ask.

He leans away from me to sit up again and sighs. "Oh no, here it comes. You're introspective, emotional, and philosophical self is coming out."

"Why shouldn't I be introspective? _We_ don't make sense."

"Neither does chocolate and peanut butter, but somehow it works," he says. "Somehow the mixture of those two things is genius."

"You're drunk. I'm not talking about food. I'm talking about two people with a really complicated past—"

"Stop thinking so much," he says, finishing my sentence. "No matter how much time has pass, it doesn't seem to matter." He rubs my arm gently, tickling my sensitive skin. "I don't know why were both fighting it so much. Heck, I couldn't do it with any of the girls tonight because all I could think about was you. I even called one of them your name," he says, rambling. "Yeah, it's messed-up, we're messed-up, but why hide the fact that we still want each other?"

I push him away. "You, Kick Buttowski, are one big jerk."

"I don't get you," he says, his hands in the air and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I admitted I couldn't be with another girl because I was thinking of you. I want you, Kendall. Is that so wrong?"

"Yes."

"What, admitting you turn me on? Why are you treating it as if it's an insult?"

"I don't want us to just 'want' each other." I take a deep breath. "I want a real relationship with a guy. Love. And you, you don't even know anything about love. Love is _honesty, _where I can rely on someone to always be there for me. Love is a _mutual respect_ for one another, something you and I don't have."

"Oh, really?" my words obviously make him pissed, because he stands up and fires back, "So you're saying you have no respect for me?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

"Fine," he says.

"Fine," I say.

"I guess I pegged this thing going on between us all wrong, then."

A sharp pain strikes my heart, but I stay strong. "It's all about honesty, Kick."

"Yeah, well, _honestly _you're being ridiculous."

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><p><strong>One chapter down who knows how many more to go. I got the whole plotline down already just gotta work out a few kinks, then theres typing it all down, but appearntly time is not on my side. The next chapter will be up….well, when its up. I could make this go faster depends on how many more reviews I get. Amazing how the power of reviews can get your lazy ass up and working on the rest of the story. Anyhoo, until next time.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Finally the second chapter is here. And I think it's the longest chap. I've ever done. Meh. Hope it was worth the wait. Oh! And when you read this, ****visualize it as an ****anime****!**

**That's what I always do when reading a storie. Or that's just me. Hmn.**

Kicks POV

I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone else is asleep. I haven't talked to or heard from Kendall since I stormed out of her house four hours ago. I told her I still wanted her. Admitted that I never stopped wanting her. And she goes and starts talking about love. Frigg 'in love and honesty.

Love isn't just about honesty. It's about protecting the people you care about from things that will hurt them. That's love. Aw, biscuits. I told Kendall I still want her and we should give in to our lust for each other. _Stupid_, I know. I didn't mean to blurt it out then and there—it just happened. Maybe it was the liquor. Yeah, right. I'm still buzzed, but I knew what I was doing. Doesn't make it any less stupid, though.

The next week, when I come back to school, Kendall practically ignores my existence. Not that I blame her. I know I just got back in Mellow Brooks, but already, I can't wait to leave again. And I think Kendall does too. I sigh. Sucks that Gunther already left with his family to go visit his hometown for the summer, they didn't even wait for school to officially end before they left. Lucky him. I lean back in my seat and look up at the ceiling. _Only four more weeks_, I thought._ Four more weeks then it's good-bye Mellow Brooks. Again._

Today I found out the school is having an assembly in the auditorium about TRD—Teen Reckless Driving. Where we have to listen to other teenagers tell their sob stories on how it changed, or in other words, pretty much screwed-up their lives. While they hope their stories will miraculously change someone's life. I walk in late, soaking wet with steam radiating off of me and burnt marks on my jumpsuit—most on my back.

_**Flash back**_

_I lit the last match and set fire to the fifteenth jumping hoop, around the track field, during lunch period. As I finish setting up, I hear a lot of murmuring behind me and turn my head. _

_Looks like I've drew in a crowd; practically the whole school is either sitting on the bleachers or gathered around the track, curious to what I was doing. Most of them I've known since middle school. Some of them I've only seen around before I left MellowBrook, and some I don't recognize at all._

_I can tell by Mouths loud voice and know-it-all stance, he's explaining me, Kick Buttowski and exactly what I'm known for doing, to the obviously new residents of MellowBrook. My first day back I've been told over and over by old faces, how dull and boring it's been in MellowBrook since I left. And because nothing interesting goes on now a' days, a lot of kids have been craving excitement. _

_But that's not the reason I'm doing this. This is just an attempt to clear my head from a certain blond pain-in-the-neck that's been clouding my mind since I got back._

_Getting in position, I stop for a brief moment to wrap a blind fold over my eyes. This set some kids off as I begin to hear:_

"_What's he doing?"_

"_Does he have a death wish?"_

"_Is he crazy?"_

_I can't help but smirk. Little do __some__ of them know, I do this type of stuff on a regular daily basis, and have done things ten times more dangerous. The blind fold is just to insure that my focus stays on task. And nothing but the task. No distractions._

_Once I drop Ol' Blue on the ground with a loud 'CLANK' I get into position, again. I hear hushes and it's quiet. I stay in this position for seven seconds then without warning I shoot forward._

_I see only darkness as I feel the rushing wind hitting my face, I hear the incoming sound of crackling—of course the fire. When I feel myself getting close enough to the point of feeling the heat radiating from three feet ahead, I jump while spinning like a tornado. Adrenalines pumping in my blood, rushing through my veins from up and down my body like lightning. Then it's over too soon._

_I continue this until my mind is clear of all thoughts. I placed the fire hoops in a zigzag pattern. Cartwheeling, spinning, doing front and back flips in the process. I think I've gone around the tracks ten times already, maybe more, I'm not sure. But it feels great how the adrenaline rush seeps into my veins and lifts me up no matter how low I feel._

_Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end._

_I figure it's time for the finale. I power skate to what I'm sure is the final hoop, placed at the end of the track, along the way I snatch a loose string that I purposely placed by the bleacher stand—before I set up the stunt—then yank it when I go through the final hoop while doing a hand stand._

_A loud 'POP' is heard and before anyone knows it Cheetah Chug is spraying rapidly in the air like a volcano—from ten liters that I had hidden with camouflage in the middle of the track field—it falls down like pouring green rain, I can hear the flames being put out with all the sizzling. And I don't need to look to know the crowd is soaked. Because when I was setting up, I made sure the radius was the entire track field._

_I had the string connected and attached to, not the liters, but the caps—which had about ten Mentos that I carefully placed underneath. By yanking the string, the caps flew off dropping the Mentos into the liters, getting the same result you would get when shaking a soda can too hard and having it splatter in your face when snapped open—only twice the awesome._

_When the Cheetah Chug rain starts to clear, I professionally land on the ground; right palm first followed by knee, and left foot while my head is ducked down. The moment I land I shot up my left arm and catch Ol' Blue. While still in the same position. It's dead silent for a moment._

_Then, as if on que, I hear the crowd go wild as if what I did was something they've never seen before. But I pay them no attention as I take my blind fold off and start walking away, skateboard in hand, my frustration hidden under my helmet._

_The stunt didn't work. Seems like no matter what I do, she always has a way of worming back into my mind._

_I hear a girl with a bubbly voice, shout loudly with enthusiasm. "You're on fire!"_

_Not facing her I keep walking, I give a back wave as a response. I was never in this to impress girls. Then she shouts in an even louder voice._

"_**Dude!**__ You're__ literally__ on fire!"_

_I stop when I smell smoke, and then turn my head to the source. Sure enough, my back shoulder is bursting in flames._

"_Oh. I am on fire." I say, unfazed for a couple of seconds, than my eyes widen as alarm settles in._

_In less than a split second I drop my skateboard and speed through the crowd—who kindly made a path for me—into the halls like a blur. Dodging passing students, and jumping over teacher's desk's as I pass through classes that were still in session._

_Catching sight of my destination, I burst through the entrance like a bat out of hell and by instinct I absently do my accustomed daredevil pose before I dive—skate board first—into the pool. My fist resurfaces along with my upper body._

"_EH HM."_

_I look up to a seething coach—whose entire face is turning a bright crimson, and then check out my surroundings. From what I can tell, there are people sitting on the indoor bleachers, with their mouths open wide and bewildered divers wearing speedos in the pool that I dived in—including one right behind me, who was closest to the finish line._

_I drop my fist. It appears a diving competition was going on. A competition I just—unintentionally—crashed._

_The diving coach continues to glare at me wide-eyed. And I swear I can see little bubbles oozing out of the side of his mouth and smoke from his ears. He leans in close to my face—a little too close for comfort—but I can see he is beyond piss to care._

_I clear my throat. "Heh. My bad."_

_**End of flashback**_

I snuck into the very back row unnoticed, just in time to hear one of the teens get asked a question on why he drove a car into a lake. Personally, I don't see how that can ruin your life; I myself have done a lot worse than that. Far worse.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." The guy answers. "Course I was stoned, but that's no excuse. I paid a big price and I wish I could do it over."

That seems to be the theme of our lives…wishing we could turn back time and make different choices. After school , I'm forced to take the bus home (Diving coach broke my board).

During the bus ride I look out the window, soon I see my reflection—fortunately I had a spare jumpsuit in my gym locker—then I risk a glance at Kendall, who hasn't looked in my direction. But I know_ she_ knows I'm there. She sits next to her best guy friend, Matt, chatting about who knows what.

Once were dropped off, she heads straight in the direction to her house. I had enough of this so I cut her off by stepping in her way. "What's your problem?" I ask softly so the rest of the dispersing group can't hear.

"I don't want to talk about it." She says, then starts to move away from me. I grab her wrist and tug gently, urging her to face me.

"Get your hand off her," Matt says from behind me. Matt, who is also a skater—not as awesome at it as me though—and the semi-class clown. My first impression of him was that he was a cool guy, until I found out he and some girl named Erin offered to befriend Kendall at the start of freshmen year—No, I'm not jealous—but I've seen the way he acts around her, Kendall may only look at it as him being overfriendly but I knew better. I turn my head and glare at the guy who obviously wants Kendall to be more than a friend. "What are you, her bodyguard?"

"Maybe," Matt steps between me and Kendall.

"Don't get in the middle of this." I warn.

"She obviously doesn't want to talk to you right now." When I look at Kendall she still isn't facing me.

I raise both hands. "I'm done," I tell her.

In the morning, when my Mom shakes me awake, I tell her I'm taking the day off.

"Kick, get up. You're not getting out of school today so don't even think about it." She says sternly.

"I'm sick," I say.

"With what?"

"Annoyance. Seriously, Mom, Brad's cell phone went off every couple of hours last night."

"He's telling the truth." Brianna calls from the hall as she stands in my doorway. Still in her Teena Sometimes pajamas, you'd think that lame show would be cancelled by now. She tiredly rubs her eyes, her hair is still uncombed as it now reached below her waist and tiara in danger of falling off. Yes, even at the tender age of thirteen she still hasn't grown out of the princess phase yet, probably never will. Though, we have gotten a little closer. Can't say the same for Brad. "We kept telling him to turn the thing off, but he wouldn't."

"I turned it to vibrate!" Brad calls from the bathroom. Brianna walks back into the hall and yells out. "Having it vibrate on the desk is just as bad as having it ring!"

Mom leans down and pulls the covers off me. "I'll confiscate Brads phone tonight, but your still going to school today, Kick. It's your last year. So no excuses."

Without saying another word, I drag myself out of bed, shower, and then drag my feet downstairs for breakfast. The first to see me is Brad, who's only visiting for a couple of weeks. To every one's surprise he moved out once he hit eighteen and is roommates with Horace and Pansy somewhere in New York. He hadn't really changed that much he pretty much looks the same-only five years older with a goatee.

"Morning dillweed, why so glum? Aren't you happy to be home?" Brad says in a mocking sweet tone. I ignore him as I take a seat in the only available chair that just happens to be next to him. When no one's looking he gives me a sinister smile while punching his open palm repeatedly.

"We have a lot of catching up to do," he punches me in the arm.

Hard.

Usually as a response, I would punch him right back—only harder—then tackle him to the floor and we would be rolling around throwing punches at each other until Mom or Dad start spraying us with the water hose. But just for today, I decide to let it slide, since I was in no mood to deal with Brad right now—sides, I can always get him back later.

But the real reason, I just didn't care at the moment.

Later that same day in school, I'm walking down the hall, filled with dread. I got called into the office for I don't know what reason—unless they found out about the goop prank I was planning in the teachers' lounge—and frankly, I don't give a hoot. I just want to get it over with.

As I open the door to the Principal's office, I see my parents. I raise a brow. _O-K, now I'm curious. _

"What's going on?" I ask with slight interest. I'm really not in the mood for this.

"Kick," my high school Principle, Seymour Butts says._ Pfft_, Seymour Butts, every time I hear that name... Immature I know—but funny none the less.

"Take a seat." He gestures to the empty seat in front of his desk, right next to my parents.

Jokes aside, the moment I sit I get serious and cross my arms. "There a reason why I'm here?"

"You have a lot of explaining to do young man." My dad says, disappointment clear in his voice.

"Hmm?" I reply, lifting a brow at him.

Principle, Butt—I mean "**B**" (just to take him more seriously for now) clears his throat to get back my attention. "Listen Kick," he starts, as he opens up a file folder with my name on the tab at the top. "I've already informed your parents and I'm sorry to tell you as well, but…Due to your low test scores, failure to complete assignments, and not even showing up for your online study sessions, I'm afraid you won't be graduating with the rest of your class."

I blink. "Say what now."

"You're being held back, and will have to repeat your senior year."

I put a hand to my forehead in disbelief. "That can't be possible."

"Oh. But it is. I just don't understand how. Especially when you were being distantly-homeschooled-Online while you were away," he shakes his head. "Did you even take time to do any of your work?"

"I did my work," I defend, facing him.

"Oh, did you now?" my Mom chimes in accusation.

"Sure I have—most of the time…"

Silence.

"Sometimes…"

More silence.

"Alright! So I sort have maybe forgot to sometimes, but I did do my work—just not always necessarily schoolwork."

My Mom turns back to the Principle. "Principle Bu—sir, is there anything Kick could do about it? Anything at all? Summer school perhaps?" For a brief second, horror strikes my face. No. Not that. Anything but that.

He rubs his chin in thought. "I'm afraid not, all the summer classes are full."

Phew.

"However, there is _one_ thing," he continues. Here it comes. The axe is about to fall.

"What?" my parents say in unison.

My soon to be ex-Principle has a stern look on his face. "He joins PeeChee."

"What's that?"

"It's a summer program were starting, where we, '_Empower young people for Peace and the Fulfillment of Humankind's Potential_,' the students will be traveling-and doing various activities together for a month. We're trying to get as many youths involved as we can, but with little success." His face falls for a split second but quickly returns to his stern expression. "If he participates in the program, and stays till the end, it will boost up his low credits just enough for him to pass with a Diploma in check. But that's as much I can do."

This whole time, I don't move an inch. My voice matches my steely gaze. "No."

They all whip their heads to me in surprise. "NO?"

I shake my head. "I can't. Once summer break starts, it's back on the road. Billy got me my _own performance debut_, which will be held in Saint Louise. I can't just miss that."

"You can. And you will. School should be your top priority, and we wouldn't have let you go traveling with Billy in the first place, if you were going to fail high school. So whether you like it or not, you're going to that program and that's final." My mom says, sternly.

I shake my head. "You can't make me. I'm almost flipp'in _eighteen _now, and should be able to make my own decisions_." _

Dad backs her up. "Not yet you are. Being eighteen doesn't mean you're an adult just yet. You're still a kid, Kick. A minor. And you still live under our roof. So you still live by our rules."

_Not for long._

"If this performance of yours is so important, then just call Billy and tell him you're postponing."

"You can't just postpone these things, Mom." I exasperate. Trying to keep my voice under control. I take a deep breath. "So I don't really have a choice?"

"You do, stay here and repeat the year—no stunts. Or go to that program, it's only four weeks, Kick. I'm sure you'll survive."

So there isn't a choice. One of the options is something I'd do practically anything to avoid. Before I lose my cool, I stomp out of the office and reluctantly pull out my cell phone to dial Billy's number. I tell him about my unfortunate predicament and the possibility of postponing. He responds: that it's too bad, and he'll see what he can do. But the odds don't look good. I hang up.

Frustrated, I spin around and with half my strength; kick over trashcan right outside the Principles door where a loud 'CLANK' echo's. From the corner of my eye, the Principle looks at me with a concerned expression. While my parents are nonchalant. "Oh, don't worry about him, Kick's a big boy. He'll get over it." My Mom waves dismissively.

Get over it? Get over it? I've been gone eight months, working my a** off, and now it's all being flushed and she thinks I'll just _**Get over it?**_

Despite my poker face, my whole body is trembling with rage. But I take a deep breath and quickly calm down; whatever, I'll just take it out on Brad when I get home. Before I turn to leave, I glance at the trashcan I kicked over and decide to quickly bend down and put it back in place. I stand, and stomp off with my hands buried in my pockets. Clenched.

The day of the program—in the late afternoon— I get dropped off at the park where a big white van is waiting. After getting out of Dad's car, he tells me to hang by the van and introduce myself to the rest of the group before he drives off.

It's been a little over a month, since I've seen Kendall. I mean really see her. In class, the second the bell rings, she's already out the door. And I only catch glimpses of her around the school campus—which is the only place I can see her—other than that, I don't know where she's been hiding. I turn to the other kids who were most likely forced here too.

To my surprise I see Emo kid—oh right, I hear everyone just calls him Emo now, since he isn't exactly a kid anymore—and honestly, I would have never expected to see him here. He's basically the tallest in the group, but with a really lanky body. Next I see Matt, and as much as I want to dislike him, it's pretty hard not to, the guy is just way too nice—even to me. And has even managed to get a laugh out of me a few times in the past. So I guess we should be cool.

The other two I don't know at all. There's a guy with long curly hair and a not so friendly looking girl with a scowl on her face. When one of them moves aside and I get a glimpse of the person they were shielding, my entire body goes numb.

Kendall.

**Uh oh, what's gonna happen next? Stay tuned. ; P**

**And sorry if some of this stuff is confusing. I'll work out the kinks when I have time. And Yeah, I know there are some spelling mistakes, usually I don't post until my beta-reader reads it and corrects it. But due to technical difficulties and the fact that I have no idea what's going on her side or if she's even …alive.**

**I went ahead and post it because this chapter has been done for 7 weeks already and I couldn't wait anymore. (To my beta-reader, if you're still out there "I'M SORRY!" _)**

**And yup, Emo kid is gonna be part of the storie too. Although he's only gonna be a background character—but never less! I just love him! He's my third fav character in the Kick Buttowski show. Plus, I'm a bit of an Emo\Goth myself. I look it, but I sure don't act it.**

**And the name for the summer program was totally random. Anybody got a better name, lemma know.**


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